bird bones

Everything is
cracking,
like the bird bones
we found
at the beach,
pale and smooth
and soft
like your hands.
You were
just as fragile
as them,
I know that now.

If I could have the names tattooed on my skin
of all the people I have ever loved,
whether fiercely or simply
because of a single glance
exchanged across a crowd,
or the brush of fingertips
accidentally exchanged
across a table.
Then maybe when I die
they will look at my body
and say she loved many,
and if the reasons I loved them,
were there as well,
then my entire body
shall be covered with ink -
evidence of love
and being loved,
proof of a life
lived in love
shall be written
all over my skin.

I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
- T. S. Elliot

I will love where I am right now.

My parents have been
tiptoeing
around me
for the past few days
walking on eggshells
handling me with kid gloves
and all the other cliches I can think of
it's as if I am a tiny bird
they are afraid of crushing
or glass they are afraid of breaking
'How tired are you on a scale of one to ten?'
'Have a good day okay?'
'Be happy.'
Maybe it's working though
because I feel
better
within myself
and really
that's all I want

Stars. It's always about stars.

Mismatched dreams of boys with tired eyes and loud laughs walking their way across sand as it rained, fingers poking salt covered anemones, shells spinning, hands clutching brown shiny seeds for luck as they walked side by side down steps and through vines. Car trips and ‘You know lots of songs’ and feet and ‘There’s an ocean in my shoes’ and laughter, so much laughter, with and sometimes at each other, and glances, glances to the side when no one is looking. Secret photos of photos, turn off the flash, big trees and proof and smiling then not smiling as we look up feeling insignificant in comparison to the millions of shining eyes that forever gaze straight back down on us. But do they ever tire of watching a world that repeats its mistakes? Do they ever wish upon people? Oh look there’s another one, make a wish, or do they just wish that they could close their eyes to our wrongs and wish that none of this ever existed because existence probably would have been better off that way.

And what if a star fell in love with a human? We are made of the same stuff you know, so it wouldn’t be so wrong, just sad. It would have to be long distance because by the time they made it to earth we would have all died and their love would be lost and besides, humans can’t get that close to stars anyway because they would crash and burn but mostly burn because their temperatures would be too different, like the time fire fell in love with ice, but no one knows about that because it was over so quickly because fire touched ice and ice melted and put fire out.

And people never do really see do they? They have two eyes, but no sense so they become lost in themselves, and ‘Do you ever feel like you spend too much time in your head?’ ‘Not anymore’ because its questions like these that need to be asked the most. The answers matter sometimes, but not as much as the questions themselves. You become different when you ask those questions, as it becomes the most and least you know about a person at the time and you can always find out more. There is always more time and you can always use it.

Reading List

I am writing a reading list for this year. Any suggestions on books to read? :)

Image here.